Aaaaand, I’m back. I mean, GG is back. GG? GG! About a hundred million years ago, sometime between the Cretaceous period and the cosmic event that tragically precluded velociraptor-human hybrids*, NAG was a magazine and GG was on the last page. Or the first page, if you prefer to read backwards. Or a dilute suspension of cellulose fibres and other organic polymers subjected to a series of chemical premixes and a screening extraction process to produce a lightweight composite material used for the compilation of printed text before the internet was invented, if you’re a millennial. Or maybe you skipped it entirely because it was a load of pretentious wank. This is more of the same.

My boss asked me yesterday if I’d start this thing again.

“You can write about anything,” he told me.

“… Anything?” I asked, flipping speculatively between browser tabs of babushka cat memes.

“ANYTHING!” he replied.

So, expect something, nothing, everything in between, and copy-pasted Google Hangouts discussions about Dead Space.

And dank references.

 

For my next trick, though, I want to talk about opinions, which is relevant (and totally meta) because this is an opinion column. And because writing about games is mostly, actually about opinions.

“What,” gasps a hypothetical person I made up to make a point. “Even reviews?”

Opini

“But-but-but, unbiased objectivity and something about ethics.”

Nah, opinions.

Like Dane’s review of Star Wars: Battlefront 2, for example. If you missed it, Dane killed Christmas for a lot of people because he wasn’t interested in reiterating the loot box controversy we’d already published this, this, this, this, this, this, this, and this about, and wrote instead about his opinion of the game, prompting over 100 opinions about that opinion, and you know what, the loot boxes weren’t even so bad (but that’s obviously just my opinion). No doubt some of the same people will have an opinion about my opinion about their opinions about Dane’s opinion, and that’s okay too because opinions aren’t incontrovertible truths about existence and the ephemeral tragedy of the human condition and peanut butter, they’re simply opinions.

Me? I like the crunchy stuff, but I’ll tolerate the presence of the smooth stuff in the same cupboard because my husband likes it, even though I think it’s a blasphemous abomination. This is also a metaphor, and thus endeth the lesson for today.

* That’s how evolution works. Look it up.

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